


Il Silenzio Morira

by Aquielle



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannigram - Freeform, Happy cannibal noises, M/M, Poetry & Smut, Season 3 Episode 2 -Primavera, crypt scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:43:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4661970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquielle/pseuds/Aquielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will finds Hannibal in the crypt caverns, forgiveness and smut ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Il Silenzio Morira

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ProxyOne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProxyOne/gifts).



> For Rach who understands that nessuno dorme until the Murder Husbands are in Argentina.

Three little words should not be able to cut right through the core of him. Will Graham should not have the power to cut him open and leave him on display like a rare butterfly pinned behind glass.

"I forgive you" rings out in the cold air, four syllables should not steal his breath and shock his aching heart into beating again. Will's voice is quiet, barely any air behind it, but Hannibal heard him. He could hear him from a thousand miles away.

Like drawn to like, an ancient call and answer that altered the very fabric of his being.

The crypt that surrounds them leeches the warmth from his bones and the smell of decay permeates the very molecules around them. The entropy that swirls in his mind will lead to decay if it is not arrested.

He is slipping, becoming impulsive, he knows he is acting like a petulant child waiting for someone to return his favorite toy. His sullen demeanor of late telegraphing what Doctor De Maurier has already impressed upon him, that leaving Will was akin to Castor surviving without Pollux, impossible to maintain.

Lashing out is unwise, but how else could he display his devotion? His heart parted from his chest and left on display. A grotesque Valentine for the one person alive who truly sees him, understands the darkest parts of him. Bedilia was not a suitable substitute for the piece of his heart that he carved out and left bleeding out on his pristine kitchen floor.

Sweet anticipation perfumes the air around him along with Will's scent. Teasing like a loose button, to have him so tantalizingly close is intoxicating. He moves quickly determined to capture, to gaze upon the luminescent side of his inky coin.

He draws close enough so that his footsteps are heard. "Would you have followed me into hell?"

"Hell is empty, all the devils are here." The fondness softens Will's voice, a smile no doubt breaking the tight lips against the tension of the moment.

"And so am I, how did you know?" He wants to look him in the eyes, caress the beautiful, fragile being. But he keeps himself apart. This is Will's olive branch to extend or deny.

Their eyes meet and hold. "It was the beating of your hideous heart, it pulled me here."

He remembers when they first met how many layers Will hid behind. Now he comes with arms open, sans armor like a gift from the Gods themselves. "We loved with a love that was more than love, Will."

"Is that what it was Hannibal, love?" He asks as he clenches his jaw only to release the tension.

"Solamente amore" he says wistfully.

Will smiles and his eyes light up, "Florence suits you."

"It is made all the more exquisite by your presence."

He takes one step forward only to have Will take three. The sudden entry into each others orbit after prolonged absence leaves them warm in the brisk air of the sepulcher.

The stuttering of Will's exhale echoes off the cavernous walls as he reaches for Hannibal. The gentle caress of a cheek, as if to prove to each that the other is real.

"I almost didn't believe you were real. I kept seeing you, in places you haven't been in months. I went to your office, I sat in your chair."

He wants so much to kiss him until all of his breath is gone. "And how did that make you feel?"

Will's hand trembles "Unstable and slightly jittery, like I was going through withdrawal".

"Tell me what you want Will. I'll grant it, if you but ask."

The pleading in his eyes seeps into his voice "Hannibal, please. I need you to touch me".

Hannibal's control has been a fickle thing, tenuously attached by a thin string since the moment he caught sight of Will in the church, it all but collapses in on itself.

He doesn't go for the obvious contact. Will has already slid a hand to the back of his neck to encourage closer proximity.

He brushes Will's jacket open and presses against his abdomen, feels the ridge of scar tissue beneath the shirt. He wants to remove the offending article of clothing, so he untucks and unbuttons. 

He drops to one knee and he can feel the stillness in Will's body, the way every muscle has contracted to preserve the moment, as if to capture and collect it like a rare specimen.

The first touch of lips to skin causes a low hum that bends and morphs into a high whine to exit Will and bounce off the cavernous walls. It strikes a chord inside Hannibal that causes him suck hard at the scar and then run his tongue along the uneven dips. He clutches at Will's back and becomes engulfed in the scent.

Hannibal has not always been a creature of fine china and silk. His formative years were drenched in sweat, hunger and desperation, Will smells like the kind of home that luxury could never afford him. The salty, musky taste of his skin is exquisite on his palette.

He feels the shutter-shocks wracking Will's body and it stokes the fire in him to greater heights of desire. He has marked but not yet claimed and it is a situation that cannot be tolerated any longer.

"I dreamt about this, only the roles were reversed" Will says as he buries his fingers in Hannibal's hair, rubbing the base of his skull in encouragement. "I begged forgiveness and lavished you in kisses and poetry" he laughs then groans as Hannibal tightens his grip and bites at his hip.

Hannibal looks up at him like a creature possessed. "And here I thought I was the only one driven to melodramatic romantic gestures" he opens Will's pants and chases away the jolt of cold air by enveloping Will in his mouth.

Will's fingers pull taut and a strangled sound reverberates. "Oh, my true love hath my heart, and I have his" he mutters, muscles flexing as he struggles for some semblance of control. "His heart in me keeps him and me in one".

Hannibal feels his composure snap and he redoubles his efforts. All sense of restrain leaving him as he sinks his fingernails into Will's lower back and buries his nose in the soft dark curls of his groin. Will clutches at him, losing his borrowed words.

Reduced to only low, needy sounds he is achingly exquisite. The taste and smell of him is sublime and when the wave that has built up finally breaks Hannibal is utterly undone by his overwhelming affection for him.

He pulls Will down to his knees, softly kissing every available stretch of skin. Looking into blue sated eyes he states "He loves my heart for once it was his own, I cherish his because in me it bides".

**Author's Note:**

> Quotes from  
> The Bargain by Sir Philip Sidney  
> Annabel Lee & Tell-tale Heart by Poe  
> The Tempest by Shakespeare


End file.
